


Cambridge

by flowerfan



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Road Trip, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cambridge, Massachusetts - home of Harvard University and the Krokodiloes - is the first stop on Blaine and Kurt's 2015 summer road trip.  Written for Klaineroadtrip2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cambridge

Kurt and Blaine came up out of the subway station, blinking as they emerged into the bright summer sun. 

“So this is Harvard Square,” Kurt observed, sliding his sunglasses onto his face and looking around. “Where do we start?” The area outside the T stop was bustling, and Kurt shot a disparaging glance at a gaggle of teenagers who nearly elbowed Blaine into the street as they pushed past.

“Trent said we should go grab coffee at Au Bon Pain, and he’d meet us around ten o’clock,” Blaine replied. He glanced down at his phone to see the map he had pulled up, and then pointed back down Massachusetts Avenue. “I think it’s over there, just across the road. Sound okay?”

“A plan that starts with coffee? Sounds perfect to me.” Kurt smiled and linked his arm with Blaine’s as they headed over to the café. Once they had their coffees (iced, given the heat), they found a seat outside at one of the many metal tables on the open patio, happy to people watch for a few minutes as they waited for their friend. There were several street musicians playing nearby, an older man with a guitar and a girl with a flute, and Kurt thought they weren’t half bad. Blaine reached to pet a curly haired puppy sitting with the couple at the next table and giggled as it licked his hand eagerly.

“What are all these students doing here, anyway?” Kurt asked, noting the large number of people with backpacks and bookbags. “Don’t they know it’s summertime?”

Blaine shrugged. “Summer school, maybe? And I think a lot of them are tourists.” Blaine pointed out a large group of people of all ages, a tour guide walking backwards in front of them and gesturing at the surrounding area. 

“I’m glad we’ve got Trent to give us a private tour. Makes me feel a little less silly.”

Blaine smiled encouragingly. “Come on, Kurt, this is great! I’ve always wanted to see Harvard. It’s an institution. It’s going to be awesome!”

Kurt had to grin at his excitable husband. “I know, sweetheart. It’s like coming home to the mother ship for you, isn’t it?” He tugged fondly at Blaine’s bowtie, which Blaine had selected carefully this morning to go with his crisp light pink buttondown and pleated khaki shorts. The outfit was almost subdued for Blaine, were it not for the fact that the navy tie was adorned with bright pink and green polka dots.

Blaine returned the smile. “Dalton was definitely a prep school in the literal sense of the word. At least, everyone’s parents wanted them to go to schools like this. But not all the Warblers headed off to the Ivies.”

“Yeah, I heard one of them is actually at NYU now,” Kurt said proudly, poking Blaine’s foot with his loafer. 

“Very funny.”

“Blaine! Kurt! You made it!”

They both stood up to hug Trent, who was beaming as he began to rattle off his suggestions for the morning. They decided to start with a quick tour of the college. Once they had crossed the street and gone through the large wrought iron gates, the noise of the crowded city square abated. Stately brick and stone buildings surrounded a large green yard, criss-crossed with paths that led to another even larger open space, framed by the formal pillared Widener Library on one side and stately Memorial Church on the other. 

“This space is called Tercentary Theater,” Trent announced, “even though it isn’t an indoor theater. It’s where we have Commencement. They’ve had the best graduation speakers here – when my oldest brother graduated, J.K. Rowlings spoke!”

Trent walked them around all the buildings, pointing out various features and telling stories. He insisted on taking pictures of them in front of the John Harvard statute, which they both recognized. “But did you know this isn’t actually a likeness of John Harvard? Someone else was used for the model, no one knows what John Harvard looked like. And the college wasn’t actually founded by him, he just donated a bunch of money. And it was actually founded several years before the date on the statue, in 1636, making it the oldest institute of higher learning in the United States!”

At this point Kurt couldn’t help rolling his eyes at Trent, and Blaine poked him hard in the shoulder. “Be nice,” he whispered, then turned to their guide for the day. “Trent, your knowledge of Harvard trivia is impressive. How did you learn all this?”

“I’m in the Crimson Key Society – it’s the organization that gives tours. It’s very competitive, everyone wants to do it. You have to audition to get in, by designing a tour yourself and giving it to current members.” Trent bit his lip, looking down for a minute. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” 

“No, no, this is awesome,” Blaine said, pointedly not looking at Kurt, who successfully kept a straight face. Trent meant well, and was taking the morning off from work to show them around. “We were just saying earlier how lucky we were not to have to go on some big group tour. I mean, I bet you know all kinds of things that those other tour guides don’t, because you’re a student here.”

Trent perked back up at Blaine’s praise. “Do you want to see something neat? I found a room that looks like it could be a twin of the senior common room at Dalton. I can even picture us singing in there.” Trent said nostalgically. And although Blaine and Kurt were pleased to see the formal, wood paneled room, especially, from Kurt’s perspective, because it gave them a few moments out of the humid air, no one broke out into song or jumped on any furniture. Kurt figured it was just as well – one Blaine in his life was all he needed.

Before long it was lunchtime, and Trent insisted on treating them to burgers at Bartley’s, a Harvard Square landmark. Kurt trailed along behind as Trent led them to the restaurant, Blaine gesturing wildly with his hands as he described the chaos of the show he had been in at Tisch this past spring. Kurt was glad to get inside where it was air conditioned. The eclectically decorated space was packed with tables full of people enjoying hamburgers overflowing with toppings, along with milkshakes, onion rings, and a variety of other heart-unhealthy foods. Blaine and Trent each got the “Stephen Colbert” burger with blue cheese and pickled red onions, Kurt got the “Hashtag” with boursin and bacon, and they added on a side of sweet potato fries to share. As Blaine happily sucked down a lime rickey, Trent apologized for having to leave them to their own devices for the rest of the day, as he had to get to work. 

“I wish I could show you the house I’m staying in for the summer, but it’s up in Porter Square and there’s not really anything interesting to see in that area of Cambridge. But it was great to see you guys!”

As they said their goodbyes, Trent gave Blaine an extra big hug and looked a little sad. Kurt couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as their friend headed off down the street. “He’s still a sweetheart, but his enthusiasm is exhausting,” Kurt said.

“I hope you don’t think that about me,” Blaine said, smiling at Kurt as they went back out into the heat. 

“Mmm, no, your enthusiasm is just right,” Kurt said in a low voice, ducking his head to press a kiss to Blaine’s neck as he came up behind him. They twined their hands together and proceeded to window shop, stopping in some of the many bookstores to browse. Then Blaine insisted that they make their way down to the river, where they walked the path along the grassy shore. 

“Cooper always wanted to row crew,” Blaine commented as they watched a narrow boat shoot by, eight well built men rowing in synch. 

“Is looking like that a prerequisite?” Kurt asked admiringly.

Blaine laughed. “No, but I think they work out pretty hard. It’s tougher than it seems. I tried it once, and wobbled all over the place. Wes just stood on shore, giving me directions – then he tried to get in the boat, and capsized the whole thing. I thought David and Thad were going to hurt themselves, they laughed so hard.”

They found an empty bench along the river and Blaine pulled Kurt down next to him, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder and playing with his fingers. The sun sparkled on the Charles, and Kurt closed his eyes for a minute, leaning his head against Blaine’s and enjoying the peaceful feeling of just being with his husband. “This is nice,” he said softly, and Blaine hummed his agreement. 

Kurt thought he actually might have fallen asleep for a little while, but when he came to, Blaine was checking his watch. “We need to go soon, if we’re going to be at the restaurant at six.”

“Mmm, do we have to? I’m so relaxed,” Kurt sighed, sitting up slowly and stretching his arms up over his head. “Why am I so relaxed?”

Blaine smiled at him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, although it was over far too soon for Kurt’s liking. “Maybe because we’re on vacation? And we don’t have any school or work to worry about?”

“But we have to meet those people.” Kurt pretended to pout, as he stood up and extended his hand to Blaine. “Dumb people, wanting to talk to you about dumb stuff.”

Blaine laughed and let Kurt pull him up. “They happen to be members of one of the oldest a capella groups in the nation. Built on brotherhood and song, just like the Warblers.” They started walking back along the river, hands entwined and swinging gently between them.

“Blah, blah, Warblers, blah, blah, tradition, I’ve heard it all before,” Kurt said. “It all sounds great until someone throws a rock salt slushie, or takes steroids.”

Blaine paused, the look of hurt apparent on his face. “Kurt?”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, putting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders and catching his eyes. Kurt thought for the millionth time that he really should tone down the snark occasionally, if just for variety’s sake. He didn’t actually want to go down in history as the person that succeeded in sucking the joy out of Blaine Anderson-Hummel. “I’m _really_ sorry, I shouldn’t have rained on your parade like that. It’s just that…” Kurt tried to find a way to express how he was feeling. “All this – Harvard, and its fancy traditions, and even Dalton – just because something’s been around a long time, doesn’t necessarily make it good.”

“I know that,” Blaine said, still looking sad, and possibly a little annoyed. “I’m fully aware of the down side of tradition. But I thought you wanted to visit Cambridge. It’s a great city, with lots of history. And it’s not as if Massachusetts isn’t super progressive – it was the first state to legalize gay marriage, before any other state, years before most of them even got close. Mary Bonauto, from GLAD, spearheaded that court case, and then she went on to advocate in the DOMA Supreme Court case, and handled the oral argument at the Supreme Court in the case that established the right to same-sex marriage nationwide.”

Kurt sighed, taking Blaine’s arm and pulling him out of the way of a group of bicyclists. “You are completely within your rights to be annoyed at me. I’m just being grumpy because I’d rather spend the rest of the day with you than go out to dinner with a bunch of stuffed shirts who think they’re better than us because they go to _Hah-vahd._ But I promise, I’ll behave.”

Blaine accepted Kurt’s apology easily, especially when it came with a soft kiss and a tight hug. “I’m glad you get to chat with your a capella idols,” Kurt whispered in Blaine’s ear. “Then when you’re a famous Broadway star, they’ll all be able to say they knew you when.”

Much to Kurt’s surprise, the guys from the Krokodiloes were anything but stuffy. The reason for the get-together was to talk about a collegiate a capella show that NYU wanted to put on, and Blaine, as a representative from one of the NYU groups, had volunteered to meet with the Kroks while he was here. Matt, the president of the Kroks, shook their hands enthusiastically when they arrived at the restaurant. Rahil, a rising sophomore, hung back at first, but soon was chatting along happily, revealing a clever wit paired with an amusingly nerdy love of pop culture. 

After placing their orders, Kurt sat back and relaxed as Blaine explained his ideas for the show. The boys were treating them to dinner at Henrietta’s Table, an upscale establishment which advertised “fresh and honest” cooking with a farm to table philosophy. The room was open and airy, with lots of light wood, white tablecloths, and photographs of vegetables and flowers to get you in the mood. Kurt was all for eating foods from local farms, and if the basket of delicious breads promptly placed on their table was any hint, dinner was going to be quite good.

Matt excused himself to use the bathroom, and Rahil stepped away from the table to answer a text, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone for a moment. “You okay?” Blaine asked. “We’re not boring you too much?”

“Not at all,” Kurt answered sincerely, leaning in to kiss Blaine. “Mmm, you taste good.”

Blaine laughed softly, leaning his forehead against Kurt’s. “It’s as if they used actual grapefruit to make this grapefruit juice.”

A chair squeaked against the floor and they looked up to see Matt staring at them curiously. Kurt immediately felt his stomach clench. So, not so liberal after all, he thought. “Do you have a problem with me kissing my husband?” he asked dryly.

“What?” Matt exclaimed. “No, no, not at all. It’s just that…”

This ought to be good, Kurt thought, his back stiffening.

“It looks like Blaine got some sunburn on the back of his neck. Right there,” he pointed. “I didn’t see it until he was leaning up against you.” Matt sat down and rummaged in his backpack, pulling something out triumphantly. “I’ve actually got some aloe, if you want to put some on,” he said to Blaine as he held out the small tube of lotion. “I know, I know, who carries aloe around in their bag?” Matt laughed softly at himself.

Rahil sat down next to them with a smile, oblivious to what had gone on. “Is Matt demonstrating his Mary Poppins trick again? He’s got enough supplies in that bag to last for weeks. I think he wants to be prepared in case there’s a zombie apocalypse.”

At this Kurt burst out laughing. “I take back everything bad I ever said about Harvard,” he said, throwing an apologetic glance at Blaine, who had sat speechless through the entire exchange. “You guys are just as crazy as everyone else I know.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Rahil said, bowing his head. “Now, are we getting dessert, or do you guys have to run off? Because the black forest cheesecake they serve here is to die for.”

In fact they had to pass on dessert, because Blaine had another event planned for them. It was getting dark as they walked back up towards the center of the square, but the streets were still as busy as they had been earlier. They paused for a few minutes to watch a juggler, and for a quick stop at a fancy food shop which they discovered stocked some of Kurt’s favorite chocolates. Then Blaine steered them down a narrow street with a crowd of people gathered at the corner. 

“You’re taking me out for margaritas?” Kurt asked. “Not that I mind, but it looks like there’s going to be a wait.”

“Nope, that’s not where we’re going,” Blaine said, leading Kurt instead to a staircase across the street from the overflowing Mexican restaurant. They went down the stairs and into the small venue, which turned out to be a dimly lit room filled with tables pressed together rather too closely for Kurt’s liking. The stage at the end of the room, however, promised that this wasn’t just a dessert spot.

“Welcome to Passim,” the waitress said, squeezing in between patrons to show them to a table near the front. “Please try to place your order before the show starts, it gets hard to get through afterwards,” she said, leaving their menus on the table.

Kurt pulled out a chair for Blaine, and they arranged themselves so they were sitting close and facing the stage – not that sitting anything but close was much of an option given the small space. Kurt took Blaine’s hand and placed it on his lap, smiling gently at him. Blaine was looking a little anxious, as if worried that Kurt wasn’t going to like his choice for the evening.

“So, this place seems pretty neat. I’m guessing it has a story?”

As Kurt suspected, Blaine’s face lit up at the chance to share what he had discovered. “It’s been around for over fifty years. Tons of famous artists got their start here – Joan Baez, Patty Larkin, Suzanne Vega. Tonight we’re seeing a folk duo that writes their own music and has awesome harmonies. I think you’ll like them.” 

“I’m sure I will.” Kurt put his arm around Blaine, who leaned his head on his shoulder and sighed. 

The singers were, in fact, incredibly talented, one of them seeming to play every instrument known to woman or man, and both with a great ear for harmony. The music was infectious, a blend of folk and soul and gentle pop. Kurt could see people looking down from the street through the windows near the ceiling, probably wishing their sweetie had been smart enough to buy tickets, too. 

Blaine was mesmerized by the performance, concentrating intently on the music, his fingers sometimes tapping along on Kurt’s thigh. He was in his element, for sure. He really had been all day, Kurt thought. Not for the first time, Kurt wondered what Blaine’s life would have been like if he hadn’t followed Kurt to New York. Blaine easily could have gone the Ivy League route, fitting in with the best and the brightest, continuing the traditions that had been in place for years. 

He hoped that the path Blaine had chosen – New York, and performing, and _Kurt_ – was right for him. Kurt supposed there was no way to know. Except, maybe, there was; Blaine had been happy, lately, really happy. Since they got married, they had their rough spots, but overall Kurt was pretty sure that Blaine was happier than he had been in years. He saw it every day, in Blaine’s easy smile, his open and earnest face, and his sincere joy in being with Kurt, no longer tempered by a fear that Kurt didn’t fully reciprocate his love.

And the amazing thing was that Blaine’s joy in him now triggered an equal joy in his own heart, an equal and opposite outpouring of love back at him, as natural as the laws of physics.

Kurt shook his head, pulling himself back into the present and concentrating on what one of the performers, Ty, was saying. When she introduced the next song by explaining that it was one she had written when performing with her last band, Blaine got even more excited. “I loved that group,” he said. “They broke up a few years ago, but they were fantastic.”

As Ty began playing the intro on the guitar, Blaine sighed. “I’m so glad she’s singing this song. It’s beautiful.”

_You were spoken for_  
_I spent twenty lifetimes at your door_  
_But your heart was busy within_  
_Building bomb shelters under your skin_  
_That's the shape I found you in_  
_That's the shape I found you in_

_I was calling to you_  
_It was one thing I knew how to do_  
_But my heart tried to cheat_  
_Building safety nets under my feet_  
_So if I fell I would fall right in_  
_That's the shape you found me in_

_You were delivered to me_  
_We were closed as the stores on Christmas Eve_  
_So I felt around in the dark_  
_Building rope ladders into your heart_  
_Climbing hand over hand to get in_  
_That's the shape I found you in_  
_That's the shape I found you in_

It was a hauntingly lovely song, and the message in the lyrics was one that certainly resonated with Kurt. He had been closed off, certainly, until Blaine found him. Kurt still struggled to be open with Blaine, to share himself and not hold back. And he knew Blaine struggled, too, in his own way. As they had said at their wedding, they were works in progress. And this wasn’t a bad thing.

“I love you,” Blaine said, as if sensing Kurt’s thoughts. “I’m so glad you let me into your heart,” he whispered, his honey eyes wide and soft. 

“Me too,” Kurt said, his heart clenching at the truth of it. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> For more information and pictures, see the following:
> 
>  
> 
> [Tours of Harvard.](http://www.harvard.edu/visitors/tours)
> 
>  
> 
> [GLAD (Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders).](https://www.glad.org/)
> 
>  
> 
> [Harvard Krokodiloes.](http://www.kroks.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [Club Passim.](http://www.clubpassim.org/club-passim)
> 
>  
> 
> Finally, I can’t say enough good things about Ty Greenstein, formerly of an amazing harmony-driven trio called Girlyman, who performed many times at Passim. She wrote the song featured here, _The Shape I Found You In,_ and many others. You can find Girlyman’s music at [Girlyman,](http://girlyman.com/) \- check them out, you won’t regret it. Ty is currently in a new duo, [Mouths of Babes.](http://www.mouthsofbabesmusic.com/)


End file.
